


It Feels Right

by TheBowlOfPasta



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bed-sharing, Fem!Crowley, Fluff, Genderqueer, I fallen in love with this show and I can't get up, Nonbinary, Other, Romance, Trans, Trans Crowley, nanny ashtoreth - Freeform, no beta we die like men, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19906897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBowlOfPasta/pseuds/TheBowlOfPasta
Summary: Crowley reflects on the Nanny days and decides for her to make another appearance. However the outfit brings on an important discussion with Aziraphale about pronouns. Specifically Crowley's pronouns.





	It Feels Right

**Author's Note:**

> Long time reader and first time poster here on AO3!  
> First GO fanfic and semi finished fic written ever.  
> Let me know what you think in the comments!  
> Kudos and comments are very appreciated <3  
> EDIT: Updated the HTML so it reads better.

Crowley often felt out-of-place in his body. He could make and effort in any direction he fancied. Most of history humans regarded Crowley as a man. With a few notable exceptions. This was no problem to Crowley. Usually men had the upper hand, however sad that was. Bodies weren’t so important in terms of gender or sex. Here Crowley uses He/Him pronouns. It suits him for the time being. Some days She or They is more appropriate. Human language provides more barriers than it ought to he thinks. It has mostly stayed in his head.  


Now, post Armaggedidn’t Crowley has much more time to think. The Nanny costume is hung in his closet. Crowley had to miracle a closet for all of her outfits. It’s so much easier to have human clothes in a miracled closet than miracle a new outfit every day. The shapely knit skirt was something so much different from his usual “modern” attire. Crowley hadn’t work a skirt in a while before donning the persona of Nanny Ashtoreth. She was more sensible and sensual than Crowley on a day-to-day basis. The purpose was not to have an awakening of sorts. First and foremost, demonically influence and care for little Warlock. That was the one deviation she allowed, start to enjoy it. The days were tiring, as days with children often are.  


Crowley flips through the garments. Nanny ought to make another appearance. A fine combination chosen. Accessories are next, and not an option to forego. Finally Crowley puts on shoes purchased without intent to go to work in them. Too tall. Which in comparison to Crowley's usual lanky appearance says something.  


In the mirror Crowley gazes upon the finished product. To engage in vanity is something to be relished. The residents of Hell would surely be a bit evilly proud of this display. The shape of the silhouette a bit different. It feels right. For this moment it feels amazing. Taller than ever, deviation from the other norms is desired.  


“I think this will do very nicely.” Crowley stares in the mirror. And it does. There is still doubt within. One can’t pin curls the normal way. When given the chance, one must use a miracle. It’s indulgent with these “rationings” to lower suspicion. That’s kind of the whole demonic thing. The small blip down at headquarters would barely reach anyone. Not even Lord Beelzebub could care. To come up here to attack one who could bathe in Holy Water over one little hairdo?  
Across London in an empty bookshop sits Aziraphale. He, as always sits at the main desk reading. The book is of no importance. I’m sure it’s lovely. Beside is a cup of cocoa. Aziraphale is sips it quite contentedly when the door opens abruptly.  


“We are not op-”  


“Hullo Angel.” The sudden appearance of Nanny Ashtoreth startles Aziraphale. Still, Crowley slinks in with a bit of added grace. Stopping in front of the desk, where Aziraphale sits full of confusion. His mouth opens automatically and he closes it. Gathering his composure he asks.  


“What brings you here today? Tomorrow is our date to picnic you know.”  


“I thought you’d be happier to see me a day early … Angel” Crowley purrs.  


“Well of course my dear! It pleases me ever so much. You look beautiful”  


“Really? You think?”  


“Yes my dear bo.. Well…”  


“I guess I’ll invite myself to sit. What’s on your mind?” Crowley plops on the couch. Denting the usual spot. There is a bit more grace with the movements. Aziraphale follows to his armchair.  


“When you were dressed like that watching Warlock I never called you boy. Would’ve revealed too much. As far as I knew, during that time you mostly presented as a woman. It’s not much to me, but I’d hate to make you uncomfortable. Human gender is still a mystery.”  


“Well, first and foremost I’m Crowley. I guess I like being read like a woman by humans. I /missed/ Nanny Ashtoreth. She was an extension of myself. I liked being masculine. That’s pretty much all. Right now I’m wearing clothes from my Nanny days but other clothes too.” Aziraphale smiles and gently grasps Crowley’s hand.  


“Thank you for telling me dear. My dear girl.” The corners of Crowley’s mouth twist upwards.  


“Is that alright?” Aziraphale pushes forwards after receiving an affirmative blush.  


“It’s more than. She/her pronouns are good for me right now. I’ll let you know when I change language preferences.” Crowley glances away. This was rather intimate. The couple had never opened up to either like this. Of course there was light talk over the years. At other points Crowley presented this way without Aziraphale around them. Even at the crucifixion. But come on! That other guy was on the forefront of everyone's minds. Nanny was another persona. Another costume. Similar to the change of clothes to suit the change of fashions. Aziraphale still holds on to more vintage styles.  


“I’m not one to judge. I’ve always been effeminate. To the point that I’m stereotyped as Homosexual! Really, I’m an Angel. I have no specific sex or gender. I’d have to make an effort to get to that point.” Not to say genitals equal sex, but Aziraphales point was understood.Sexuality doesn’t translate to celestial beings often. There was always a possibility. Especially considering their close quarters with humans.  


“I remember! That Shadfell fellow … what did he call you?”  


“I believe I was, and I quote a ‘Southern Pansy’!” Aziraphale said enthusiastically. The memories of the calls to the witchfinders were humorous. After, knowing that his companion Crowley also employed them for the same job. They talked late into the night. Some good wine found them and was consumed. Not too much. Tipsy is perfectly fine for now. Lighter on the physical form you see. Sobering up might set off too many alarms after all the frivolous miracles from Aziraphale. Several empty glasses later found them giggling and joking about “Armageddon”.  


“I’m quite tired Angel.” Crowley yawned. Even now she exuded more Aphrodite than Apollo.  


“Bed then?” Aziraphale replied. He was equally tired.  


“You don’t sleep! That's lazy! Too sloth-like!” Crowley questioned. Aziraphale barely naps!  


“Well, I’m wondering what all the fuss is about! Is that a problem?”  


“Oh, no. No. No problem. Do you even have a bed here? In that little flat above?” Crowley seemed flustered. She probably expected to nap on the couch and drive to hers in the morning.  


“Actually, I do have a bed. In bedroom. In my flat above the bookshop.” Aziraphale knew about human pleasures. Like sleeping, and decorating bedrooms with cute fairy lights. The pair ascended the stairs. Each step was bordered with stacks of dusty books. Just enough room for two feet. Aziraphale dons his striped pyjamas. Crowley looks in the closet and finds dark silk. She glances at Aziraphale.  


“What is this supposed to mean?”  


“Just another miracle I suppose my dear girl.” Aziraphale glances to Crowley's stunned expression. Crowley looks at the long nightie and matching robe. It will work she thinks. They crawl into bed. It’s not long before they are curled up together. Aziraphale’s arms wrap around Crowley’s waist. He smooths her hair away from her face.  


“Mind if I give you a goodnight kiss love?” He asks.  


“I’ll do you one better.” Crowley shifts and places her lips on Aziraphale’s lips softly. The kiss is sweet and loving. Soon they return to their places before and fall asleep.


End file.
